crazy little thing called love - quicksilver f.f. [ON HOLD]

ch. 22 - metal

- ELLE'S POV -

We turned around to see Rose, and Harry; who was struggling in a tall old man's arms.

The tall old man gripped Harry as if his shoulders were his only support.

"R-rose?" I stuttered.

"Don't call me that." She spat at me. "My name is Shadow."

"Where are the others?" Peter asked, probably scared out of his wits.

"Who knows!" Rose grinned evilly and turned towards Harry. She took Harry's face in her hands and pulled it towards her's so it was merely inches away from her's.

"Rose." The old man said firmly. "That's enough."

"Okay Mr. Eric." she replied to the old man, who wore a metal helmet. The man - Mr. Eric - stared at Peter incredulously, then looked away without any explanation.

"We need to get back to the base. I can take us." Mr. Eric told Rose. He lifted his hands as if he was carrying the air, and metal piping and foundations rose from the ground.

"He can move metal..." I whispered.

"My mom used to know someone who could do that." Pietro muttered to me. Suddenly, we appeared in the all white room Pietro had been stabbed in.

"Great memories in here, huh Peter?" Rose stroked his cheek and giggled.

"Go to your room and practice your powers if you wouldn't mind, Shadow my dear." Eric said, then turned to us. "Hello."

"Uhh." We both glared at him.

"Okay, okay. I see that you're mad about what I did to Rose." He waved his hand in the direction of a walking dresser. "But I must assure you, we will give you A+ accommodation."

"Uhhhh." We both stared at him again.

"We put you two together in one room, if you guys don't mind." We looked at eachother, worried about everyone else.

"Sure." Peter murmured, and followed Eric to a big room, with a double bed, dresser, desk, and mini fridge in it. It looked exactly like our hotel room in Vegas. The night he let me call him Pietro.

He let us in, and then closed the door, hearing a lock click on the outside.

"What are we going to do Peter?" I let out a small sob.

"I don't--I don't know, beautiful." He stroked my back in small circles as we laid on the bed together. "Hey. Look at me."

I looked up at his eyes. They were crystals. Rare crystals that only sparkled in the sunlight. Crystals that could only be cleaned by someone who wouldn't break them. And it was in that moment, that I saw how much trust he placed in my hands. I loved him. So much.

"It'll he okay." He whispered reassuringly. His lips were maybe an inch or two away from my face, the tempation to plant my lips on his was urgent and wouldn't go away.

"I love you." I whispered to him. He stared at me and smiled.

"Good." His gap between our lips closed quickly as his chapped lips attacked mine hungrily. My fingers were tangled in his soft locks, and his hands were wrapped around my waist, as if to pick me up.

Or lips danced together, their own song. Like perfect dance partners. His lips complimenting the way mine worked. He laid down on his back, and soon enough I was on top of him.

"You." Kiss. "Are." Kiss. "Perfect." He kissed my nose and I giggled. His mouth attached to mine again and we continued our heated makeout session, until the door unlocked and we were interrupted.

"Mr. Maximoff?" A butler-looking man called from the door. "Eric requests your presence."

"Oh. Okay." Peter nodded and slid from underneath me reluctantly. He left and followed the stranger leaving me all alone to think.

- PETER'S POV -

We walked all around the halls for maybe 10 or 15 minutes until we arrived at a glass-walled room, in which sat Eric at his desk.

I nodded and proceeded to go into his office and sit down. "You called me up here?"

"Yes. This--" He looked deadly serious and nervous. "This is very important information for you to know."

"I'm not sure if you know, but the other name I go by is Magneto." Eric stared at me. "And you said to Elle that your mom used to know someone like that."

"Yes..." I urged him to go on.

"I'm not sure how to say it Pietro."

"Just say it god dammit!" I yelled at him.

"I'm your father!" He screamed at me, and the room fell silent.

I lost track of how long I spent standing there, glaring at his old, wrinkled face.

I lost track of how long I spent wondering who my real father is.

And now I finally meet him, and he's the man who instructed Harry's attempted assassination.

Why does it have to be like this?

a/n:

HI GUYS SO THAT WAS FUN TO WRITE BUT I'M EXTREMELY EXHAUSTED BC I HAD MY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOOL TODAY AND IT WAS SWAG SO YEAY OKEE PLS GO DO MY CHARACTER ASK BC UR ALL LAME IF YOU DON'T LIKE IF YOU WANT TO ASK SOMETHING LIKE THIS

"Dear Jennie, what is your grudge against Peter?"

i would answer like this:

"Dear ______, Peter's just a big fat pussy who can't handle his own life! Why wouldn't I have a grudge against him? Haha!"

SO YISS PLS JUST DO IT

KK ILYSM STAY CRISPT <33

- savanna